


forget their names, and maybe mine.

by kairco



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-A Darker Shade of Magic, Trauma, because kell is very bad at comfort, not quite though, past suicidal ideation, this is.... dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kairco/pseuds/kairco
Summary: holland is plagued by nightmares and kell is plagued by regrets. they find each other to lean on.





	forget their names, and maybe mine.

**Author's Note:**

> these boys are fucked up. like a lot.  
> also this is badly paced and unedited what's UP

The sky is the color of deep water and the wind chimes outside are jangling with unbridled fury. The day has been humid and stifling, so the wild winds are a relief. It hasn't yet begun to rain, but everyone can feel the moisture in the air and the electricity in their tongue. Kell perches on the windowsill, unsure if he should be here. He notes the weather with detachment, not caring enough to close the blinds.

Holland lies in bed across the room, presumably asleep. His outline is silhouetted in the dimming moonlight so as to give him the appearance of less of a man than a shadow. Kell watches for a few minutes before looking away.

Holland sighs and shifts positions. The beautiful pearl colored sheets of the palace of Red London are in disarray around him. He clearly hasn't slept all night, despite the late hour. Or perhaps it's more early than late, Kell muses.

He's so far from the antari that Kell once knew. Then again, the Danes are dead and Holland is no longer that man. Kell has to repeat it to himself. The Danes are dead. Holland is no longer that man.

Kell has no idea how to go on from here. Holland has always been just the way he was and now he's not.

A gentle rain begins to tap on the roof.

Kell looks back at Holland and his expression softens to something like a smile, but quickly shifts as he sees that Holland's shoulders are shuddering. Kell crosses halfway to him before he realizes that the other man is sobbing silently and freezes.

Kell is frozen like a deer in headlights. This is definitely something that Holland doesn't want him to see, but he can't look away.

Holland curls up tighter in the blankets and Kell has no idea what to do. What is he supposed to do? Hug him? Silently leave the room and never speak of this night until the day he dies? He settles on an option somewhere in between.

"Hey."

Holland flinches and Kell already knows that he's made the wrong decision. He should have left him alone to contend with whatever trauma that Kell can't fix, can't do a single thing to help.

"A-are you okay?"

It's a stupid question and he feels stupid for asking it. Of course Holland isn't okay.

The silence stretches out and the rain intensifies. Thunder rumbles in the distance. For lack of something better to do, Kell gingerly sits down next to Holland.

He rolls over to face Kell.

"What are you doing here?"

He has a fading bruise on his left cheek, a not-quite-healed cut across his chin and his face is red and blotchy. Frankly? He should look terrible.

Kell's almost upset by the way that the dim moonlight plays across his cheekbones and the scar on his temple and makes him look inhumanly gorgeous, and gorgeous is really the only way to describe the way Holland looks.

Kell isn't one to fall for, well, anyone really, but Holland intrigues him. He has ever since they met when Kell first crossed into White London. It's less a romantic interest than a fascination. He could have been like Holland so easily. All it would have taken was a different birthplace. White London is mean and Kell would probably have gotten himself killed. Holland has survived this far with only scars.  

"I was worried about you, I guess?" He trails off at the end and the statement comes out like a question.

"I'm just- I thought- I thought I was in White London again." His voice breaks and another sob escapes his throat.

Kell instinctively reaches toward Holland, almost touches his shoulder in some misguided attempt to comfort him. Instead his arm stops halfway and he awkwardly lowers it halfway before Holland puts his hand on Kell’s forearm.

The look in Kell’s eyes must be question enough because Holland closes his eyes, sniffles, and exhales roughly. "Just- don't leave me here alone. We haven't been friends since we were kids but, but every-" He covers his face with his hands and curls his spine tighter. "Every time I'm alone here, I dream about them."He starts talking and it's as if a floodgate has opened. Words pour out and Kell can barely understand him.  
\---  
_Astrid and Athos are coming. Holland is a marked man and they will find him within the hour. Wind whips through his hair as he sits at the top of the castle walls and considers the dizzying distance to the ground. He can't look at it for any extended period of time or his stomach plans a rebellion. He hates himself for this cowardice, for not being brave enough to put one foot on the ledge, then the other, and lean forward._

_He sees the scene play out in his mind’s eye. There, he just takes those two steps and leans forward. In his visions, he is brave. That Holland would jump, not only for himself, but for every citizen of the three Londons. An antari is too powerful a tool for Astrid and Athos Dane, and that's what he is: a tool. They haven't yet bound him completely; he can still make his own decisions, but is incapable of denying the twins anything they would have him do._

_Holland risks another look over the edge and almost runs away screaming. He has to destroy himself before they can wreak havoc on other Londons. White London is already done for; its citizens are fading, fiercely, not gently, but fading all the same. He hasn't seen someone with healthy color in their cheeks since Kell last visited._

_Kell. The thought hits him like a freight train. Holland has always admired Kell, even when they were both teenagers and newly experimenting with the magic in their veins. He was so full of vitality and life, it splashed over the edges and, Holland liked to think, onto him. Kell would sacrifice himself for his London, why can't Holland do the same? Holland took a breath, tensed his muscles, took a step up and-_

_“Ah! Holland! It's you! I've been looking for you everywhere!” Astrid’s voice is insincere and coy. It rings through the air in a way that can't be natural. “I thought that something might have, gods forbid, happened to you!”_

_There's one last fleeing hope that he could muster the courage to dive away from her, but then it's gone and her sharp nails are digging into his shoulder and Holland is almost crying. Astrid takes him into a room adjoining the throne room. It's the last time he will cry until the Danes are gone_.  
\---  
Kell makes a noise in the back of his throat that means something along the lines of "I couldn't leave you alone" or "I'm so sorry" or even just "I wish I had rescued you, or even listened to you." He wipes a tear off his cheek as his heart sits in his shoes. He’d known that something was very wrong with Holland for years, but had always just stayed in line. He'd done nothing to save Holland and wasn't doing anything helpful now.

Holland pulls his arm closer and Kell pulls his feet up on the bed and lies down before he can second guess himself.

Then his arms are around Kell and it's uncomfortable but Holland is right there and Kell can't think of a place he would rather be. His hands settle below Holland's shoulder blades. He nestles his head in Kell’s chest and holds him like he’ll never let go.

“I just want to forget their names, and maybe mine too,” he mumbles, looking up at Kell. Holland is looking at Kell like he's a hero or something and it's too much. Kell closes his eyes because he doesn't deserve to be looked at like that. Not by Holland. He owes him too many lives and opportunities.

They fall asleep together. When sunlight pours into the window and awakens, Kell, he extricates himself from Holland's limbs and soundlessly leaves the room. They won't talk about this later.


End file.
